From My View
by dr-corday-er
Summary: Each chapter is a child of a different ER staffer/staffers. Tells about their life and their parents lives. Real and Made up children.
1. From My View- Carlos Moore

From My View- Carlos Moore (Jeanie's Adopted Baby)  
  
Age 12  
  
My parents just got out of parent-teacher conference. The teacher says that I need to be placed in counseling.  
  
It's not fair! So what if I'm not very social? So what if I have HIV? I keep to myself a little, and I've dealt with the HIV just fine for the past twelve years. It's bad enough just having HIV, but now I need counseling for it? There's got to be a law against this.  
  
I've had HIV since I was a baby. My mom thinks I got it at birth from my biological mother.  
  
Yes, I'm adopted. My biological mother abandoned me when I was a baby, and I ended up in the hospital, where my mom worked. She "fell in love with me at once" and adopted me. She got married to my dad the afternoon the adoption was finalized.  
  
My mom has HIV too, although she's doing better than I am. I'm okay though. Safe from the HIV turning into AIDS. I've been hospitalized twice when we discovered that the HIV was getting to close to becoming AIDS. My mom and I both get checked ever three weeks; more often than most people. My mom was a PA though, so she doesn't want to take any chances.  
  
Her three week check-up plan has probably saved my life twice. The doctors were barely able to get my count down to a safe level.  
  
My mom got HIV from her first husband. He didn't find out he had AIDS until after he and my mom had already…  
  
I can't believe that my parents are actually taking my teacher's suggestion. This is crazy! I'm doing fine one day, and then the next, I'm practically being diagnosed as manic-depressive. Seriously, I don't really care that I have HIV. I'm keeping it in check and I'm doing fine.  
  
My family is really religious. We go to church on Sundays, and sometimes even during the week, even though we don't have to. I've been taught to like it; and I do.  
  
I think that I have HIV because God knew that I could handle it. He has to keep the emotions of the earth in balance, so he has to add anger, sadness, and chaos. So, instead of making someone who couldn't have handled being HIV positive, he chose me, because I can handle it.  
  
I think that sometimes I scare people with the way I think. Every time my mom and I go get checked, the doctor has a little "therapy session" (it's not really counseling) with us. When he heard how I felt about having HIV, he didn't respond, or ask me any more of the usual questions. The next time I went, he said that what I said usually came from old people who were close to death any way.  
  
Comparing my thoughts to an old person's scares ME. I mean, old people talk like they are philosophers or something, at least that's how I look at them.  
  
Maybe I do need counseling… I mean since I am at the hospital so much, and my mom is always visiting her friends, I end up in the lounge reading medical text books. One of them said that depressed people normally don't realize that they are depressed.  
  
I don't know. I just don't understand my life sometimes. Sometimes I get this almost surreal feeling. I think "I'm here. I'm doing this." Sometimes I wonder if I just someone else's dream that's happening. That's what the feeling feels like.  
  
It's weird to be thinking that. I kind of FEEL myself thinking it. Maybe our world really is someone's dream… or nightmare. 


	2. From My View- Daniella Kovac

Some girls from school saw me with Maggie. It wouldn't have been so bad if Maggie had taken her medicine for the last few nights. She was acting crazy! She kept standing up during the movie and saying anything that she thought was wrong with it- the actors, the scenery, the plot, whatever. Finally, I had to take Maggie out of the theatre. The girls were laughing hysterically. They followed me out and teased Maggie and I the whole way home on the bus. Finally I got out and hailed a cab. I couldn't take it any more. When I got home I had to run in- leaving Maggie in the back of the car. I told the driver not to go any where, no matter what Maggie said. Good thing, too, because when I got out with mom, Maggie was trying to get the driver the drive to the Sears tower. I took Maggie inside while mom paid the driver. I'm sure the guy got a good laugh. Today at school, the girls who saw me at the theatre with Maggie made fun of me more, asking who that lady was with me. I told them the truth- that Maggie was my grandmother. They just said, "Yeah right. She was dressed like a slut." I told them that it wasn't her fault (even though it was) because she was schizophrenic. Well, those girls aren't stupid. They know that schizophrenia is genetic. So, they started calling me schizophrenic. That hurt. They didn't know how bad that hurt. I am schizophrenic. Just a little bit, and with the medicine, you can't tell I have it. I look and act just like a normal thirteen year old. I wish Maggie would just take her medicine. When she doesn't, she's a pain for everyone- especially my mom. Maggie keeps trying to set her up with Carter, even though my mom is married! One time, Carter and mom decided to humor her and go to dinner. That didn't satisfy Maggie, though. She wanted my mom to divorce dad, and marry Carter. My mom sent Maggie to the hospital after that. Maggie got out in a few days, swore she would take her medicine, and within two weeks, was back to her old ways. I don't think dad really likes Maggie. I don't blame him. She's always loud- whether she's been taking her medication or not. She's very annoying when she doesn't, always asking him about the war in Croatia. Dad doesn't like to talk about it. I upsets him too much. He was married before he met my mom, before he came to America. He lived in Croatia with his wife. They had two children, Jasna and Jacov. Dad loved them a lot. They all died in the war when a bomb hit their apartment when dad was out. Dad tried hard to save them, himself, since he couldn't get help. He couldn't save them though; his wife and children died. Daniella would be my dad's age, now. Jasna would be a sophomore in college, and Markos would be twenty-seven or so. I'm named after them. My name is Daniella Jasna Jacov Kovac. My dad calls me Jas, like he called Jasna. Everyone else calls me Daniella. I don't let them shorten it to Dani. Not even my mom calls me Jas. Both my parents work in the hospital. My dad is a doctor and my mom is a nurse. I used to be able to come home and wait for one of my parents to get home. Now, since Maggie's come, I have to go to the hospital and watch Maggie. She gets into to much trouble on her own, and she likes to be near my mom (her daughter). I don't know what to do with Maggie. If I even leave her for thirty seconds, she starts acting weird. She doesn't usually hurt people or any thing, but she just acts strange. My mom is going to have another baby- another girl. Maggie wants her to name it after her. There was no way that my mom would do that. Not that she doesn't love her, but it's just that she doesn't get along with Maggie. She'd have named it John, after Carter, but it's a girl. She asked Carter what names he liked, and he said he liked the name Lucy. He has a daughter named Lucy, but my mom likes that name. She and Carter seem to have a special connection to that name; I don't know what though. She's going to have the baby's middle name be John, though, even if it is a girl. She doesn't care. My dad didn't either. He named me, so now it's my mom's turn.  
  
I think I'll figure this all out soon. Maggie's been living with us for almost eight months now, and the baby will be born in another five months. I don't know. Maybe I have a typical life of a teenager. Maybe I don't. Who knows? 


	3. From My View- Jansa Kovac

From My View- Jasna Kovac Age Six  
  
What happened? What's going on? Where's my mommy? My tummy hurts. Not the kind of hurt you get when you're hungry, but the kind of hurt you get when you have a big owie, except a billion times worse. I can't see any thing. Everything is blurry. I can't move either. Why can't I? Is this happening to Marko and my mommy too? Wait! I know what happened; I think. The sirens were going. Daddy said that when the sirens start, to get downstairs as fast as I can. The sirens mean that bombs are going to come. Mommy, Marko, and me were going downstairs. We were just leaving. I hope Marko and Mommy are okay. Marko's hand let go of mine when the wall came down. He pushed me really hard out of the way. I hope he's okay. Mommy was behind me. She was telling us to go really fast. Daddy was at the store getting some food for us. We ran out at lunch. I hope he's okay. "Anna, Daniella, Marko! Answer me! Are you all right? Where are you?" I hear my daddy yell. He's still a ways away, by the sound of his voice. He keeps yelling things like that until I hear him break the door down. I hear him say something in English that sounds like "dam." I know some English words, but I don't know that one. "Marko! Marko! Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand!" I hear my daddy say. Then he's quiet for a few seconds, and then quickly says a prayer that I said at my granddad's funeral a few years ago. I hope that that doesn't mean. I hope not. I hear my dad walking over all the broken things in our apartment. I feel him next to me. He bends down. "Daniella, Daniella. Wake up. Are you okay?" He asks. My mom says something really softly, that I can't hear. "I can't hear you. Stay with me Daniella!" Daddy yells Then mommy says, "Help Anna. Help Marko." My dad says, "Okay, but stay with me Daniella!" My daddy turns around. I can feel him breathing on me. He puts his fingers on my wrist, checking my pulse, I think. After a few seconds he says something that I'm not allowed to say. He starts to push on my chest. It hurt a little. I want to tell him to stop, but I can't. I can feel air coming up my throat and out of my nose. My daddy is saying the prayer that we said when we went to church. We had to stop going a while ago because it wasn't safe to go outside. That's what Mommy said any way. My mom makes us say the rosary three times every Sunday to make up for it though. My daddy is saying the prayer I always started the rosary on. It's the one to God, I think. The other ones we say is one to Jesus' mother, and the other one talks about a ghost. Every time the prayer ends he'll say, "Anna, wake up!" or "Daniella, don't go on me!" He always shouts help, in both Croatian and English. He keeps doing that for a long time. The pressure he puts on my chest gets softer and softer. It feels good now. I'm really tired now. I don't want to go to sleep, because my mommy is supposed to tuck me in first. She is supposed to tell me a story. I think I can do without that now. My daddy will carry me to bed. He does that a lot. I'm going to sleep now. I can't keep thinking any more. Good Night. 


	4. From My View- Marcos Kovac

From My View- Markos Kovac Age 12  
  
It hurts. Really bad. I can't move. I can barely stay awake. I hope Jasna and my mom are okay. They were standing right by me when it happened. I think our apartment was bombed. That's the only logical explanation I can come up with. The sirens had been going for a while outside, but I didn't think it would be our house this time; or ever. I can't hear anyone, so either I am to weak to hear, or everyone else is hurt, too. I hope not. My dad! He was at the market when we were bombed. I hear him, faintly. "Markos! Markos! Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can!" He yells. I can't. It is too hard. He needs to save my sister and my mom. He is a doctor. He can do it. He says a quick prayer with my hand in his, and then drops my hand, back into the shattered glass on the floor. He can' t do anything to save me. I know I am going to die. My heart hurts, or at least my chest does. I want to close my eyes, but I know I will die the second I do. I want to make sure Jasna and mom are okay. I hear my dad shouting for help, over and over again. Shouting for any one to come. Of course, the possibility of anyone coming are low. Everyone in the building is probably hurt, and the medical service here in Croatia is not great, and is already busy enough. I hear my father reciting the Lord's prayer over and over and over again, and after every prayer, he shouts for help again. I cannot see what he is doing. Part of the wall fell on me when it happened. I don't think I could see, even if there was no wall. I don't think my eyes would work. I am not even sure that they are even open, because all I can see is dark. My mom! I heard her say something! I can't understand it though. Neither did my dad. This time she speaks louder and says, "Help Jasna. Help Markos." "Daniella, stay with me, though!" My father says. He doesn't mention that I am pretty much dead. There is no way he could help me any way. This wall feels like it is a thousand pounds. My father is still reciting the Lord's prayer, and every line or so, he'll yell my sister's name, "Jasna! Listen to me! Stay alive!" He yells. He yells, "Daniella, stay with me! Don't die on me!" I want to help my family so much. Jasna is only eight. I am twelve. I've lived longer than her, so it's only fair that she be the one to live. My father, he is a strong man, but I don't think he could ever get over losing all of his loved ones. He has prayed so much. If no one comes to help, I don't think that he will ever believe in God again. I don't think that he will ever love any one the same way he loved my mom. They are very much in love. I want to go, and let myself drift off. If this is what death is, the feeling isn't horrible, not even scary. I'm to tired to be nervous about life after death or any thing like that. I want to so much, but I need to make sure that my family is okay. I need to say goodbye to everyone. I want to say goodbye to Jon. I haven't seen him in two months. We have to stay inside, so we don't get shot by terrorists on the street. Jon lives in the next building. I wonder if his family is all right. I hope so. His mother just had a baby boy, and his sisters are only two, four, and seven. His older brother was planning on becoming a doctor for animals in England. I can't imagine how he'll ever get out of the country, let alone to England. He said that he would find a way some how, and some money. I think that I will let myself go. This is too much work. If what Father Janko said is true, I'll become an angel, and be able to see my family and friends whenever I want, and go to heaven. That sounds nice. Heaven is supposed to be peaceful and everyone is nice. I haven't seen that for a while. I love my family, and my life. I do want to stay, but I can't fight this any more. I will go. My fate is in God's hands. 


	5. From My View- Ella Greene

Ella Greene- Age Five Essie. That's what everyone at the hospital calls me. Mummy says that one of the nurses came up with it. Essie is short for Esparanza, which means hope in Spanish. No one every explained to me why they gave me the name hope. I asked once. I just kept getting the answer, "When you're older." One time, I heard some of the doctors and nurses talking about me asking that question, and debating whether they should tell me about the "Fossen incident." I don't know what a fossen is. I'm five. I think I'm old enough to know what my own name means. Oh well, I'll ask when I'm 'older.' Both my mummy and daddy are doctors. When both of them are working, I get to go to the hospital with them and play in the lounge with someone. I like playing with Dr.Dave. He's really funny. He taught me how to get stuff out of the vending machine for free. He always plays hide-and-go- seek with me too. I'm just not allowed to go into anybody's room, or the storage rooms. I also can't go into the waiting area, because he says a lot of weird people are there. They look normal to me. Dr.Dave says that if anyone I don't know touches me, I should scream really loud. I don't think that will ever happen though. All those people look the same as other people. Carter is really nice to me. He takes me to see girls that are my age. Sometimes I can play with them, but most of the time I can only talk, because they are sick. Lucky talks weird. He says that he is from a place called Croatia. Sometimes, he looks at me funny, kind of like he's sad. When he's not sad, he's really nice. He says I pronounce his name wrong, and that it's Luka, not Lucky. I like the name Lucky better though. He says it's okay. I think Lucky and Abby are in love. One time, when I was playing hide- and-seek with Dr.Dave, I went into the lounge, and Lucky and Abby were kissing! I can call most everyone in the hospital by their first name. Just not Dr.Weaver or Dr.Romano. Dr.Weaver is mostly nice. Sometimes she yells a lot, usually at Dr.Dave. She's mostly nice though. I still call her Dr.Weaver, though. I don't know her first name. Dr.Romano is mean, and scary. He always calls me "Little Munchkin." I hate that. I told him so. He just got mad and walked away. Then everyone started laughing really hard. My mummy says to be polite to him. I don't want to though. One time, I heard Peter talking to him with Cleo. Peter says that Dr.Romano is a prick. I don't know what a prick is either. When I asked him, he said never to say that, and not to tell my mummy what he said. I won't. I like having secrets with the doctors and nurses. I know that Randi has a big bag of M&Ms in the lounge, under one of the couches. She said I could have some whenever I wanted, as long as I didn't tell anyone where they were. One time, Carter let me listen to someone's heart through that thing called a sethscope. I think I'm saying it wrong. I don't know. Any way, the man didn't mind. He said I looked like his daughter. Carter said the man had something called bronitis. Wait, no, bronkitis. Any way, Carter said that he would be okay. Sometimes, when someone is going over to Doc Magoo's, they take me to get a root beer float. I get those a lot. My mummy doesn't mind, as long as the root beer doesn't have any cafine. I asked Halay what cafine was and she said that it was something that made it so you couldn't go to sleep. I like to sleep, that way, if I fall asleep in the lounge at the hospital, I get to stay there longer, until either my mummy or daddy is done. If I don't sleep when they do a night shift, they try to end early to take me home. Sleeping in the lounge is fun. Dr.Dave made me a tent that I can sleep in. Sometimes, a nurse or a doctor will come take a nap with me while I sleep. Usually Dr.Dave does, but then just gets yelled at by someone. The tent is really big. It can fit three people laying down. Once, when there were no sick people at the hospital, mummy, daddy, Abby, Lucky, Peter, Cleo, Carter, Chuny, Conni. who am I missing? Oh yeah, Helea, Deb (just me and Carter can call her that. She says it's because We're special), and Dr.Dave came in and made the tent lots bigger. It was really fun. Dr.Dave didn't even get yelled at. Once, Dr.Weaver came in and looked under there. She said she'd like to join, but she needed to keep an eye on things in the ER. She went out and told Randi what was going on. Randi came in with a camera. She took lots of pictures. Lydia taped them up at the desk so everyone could see them. Then Dr.Romano came in. He couldn't see under the sheet. Everyone was trying not to laugh. He heard us though. He asked if we were having fun at our camp little camp out. Mummy said yes and that there were no patients to see. Then she asked if he wanted to come in. He said no, and told everyone to get back to work. He walked out and everyone stayed with me. My mummy says that the people at the hospital are like family, well almost. She says that they love me and that makes them family, well most of the people any way. I'm gonna be a doctor when I grow up, just like everyone I know. They are already teaching me how. They try to explain what a lot of those big words mean. My mummy says I can be any thing I want. I want to be a doctor, though. My mum always tells me to make sure that's what I want to do, and not what I think everyone else wants me to do. Being a doctor is what I want to do though. Sometimes, my mummy and daddy let me bring a friend to the hospital. I like to bring Sarah or Kelsie. They want to be doctors too. We like to watch the doctors work at the hospital. We aren't allowed to see the big accidents though. Everyone says that we are too young to see it. Maybe when we are older. We're allowed to see them help the people that aren't hurt really bad, but only with the person's permission. Most people say it's okay. They think we are really cute, already seriously studying for medical school. Doctors have to go to medical school. Some of them go for three years. A lot of them go for four, though. My mummy went for four years. Most of the people at the hospital went for three. They are still real good doctors though. My daddy has been at the hospital for the longest, except for Halay. She's been there longer. Peter's been there the same as my daddy. They went to medical school together. They both were medical students at this hospital, interns (my mummy says an intern is the hardest job in the world), residents, just like Dr.Dave, and now they are both attendings. I don't know what the differences are between an intern, a resident, and an attending are. I know that a medical student is when you still are learning to be a doctor, and an intern is the first step after you are a doctor. I love being at the hospital. It's really neat. My family is here. I'm really lucky. I have a really big family, of people that I am not even related to! I can' t wait until I'm "old enough" to do what I want- be a doctor. 


	6. From My View- Rachel Greene

From My View- Rachel Greene  
  
  
  
Chicago. The Windy City, or whatever they call it. The one place where I was happy. I had friends. I actually had a family.  
  
Then, go figure: My mom just goes and screwed it up. She just HAD to take the job that was all the way up in Milwaukee. She said that it was the closest she could get to home. Yeah right. That's a lie if I ever heard one. She expected me to believe that there wasn't one job opening for a lawyer in Chicago?  
  
She just expects everyone to drop everything for her, so SHE could be happy. She's never happy unless someone else is suffering from it. She expected my dad to leave his job at the hospital? Yeah right. He was an attending. He wasn't about to leave what he had been working for his whole adult life.  
  
My mom thought he should. Then when he didn't she goes and gets a divorce. Then we all find out, that the whole reason she had taken the opening in Milwaukee was because she had been having an affair with a guy, and left my dad to get together with him, and then dragged me along for the ride- literally.  
  
The idiot had had to much to drink at the staff party, and got us all in a car wreck. My dad was about to beat the crap out of him for doing that. Luckily he didn't because I was there.  
  
So was Marie, who is now my step-sister. She is a brat. She's a year older than me. When she doesn't get exactly what she wants, when she wants it, she has a big temper tantrum. And she's wondering why she couldn't have a pony at nine o clock at night? Right. She thinks that because I have something that she wants, weather it be a shirt, a stuffed animal, or whatever, it becomes hers. I usually let her keep the stuff. Once, when I tried to get it back, somehow, she managed to get off home free and I ended up being grounded for two weeks. That was when I learned my lesson. I don't let her take the stuff I get from my dad.  
  
She took those pearls that my grandpa gave me. When I demanded she give them back, she wouldn't. I called my mom and Craig, but Marie said that they were hers and that I took them from her and said they were from my dad. Well, Marie could say that I was a three headed alien and my mom and Craig would believe her. I didn't get Grandpa's pearls back that way.  
  
Those pearls are the only thing I have left of Grandpa. There's a little of my dad and Elizabeth, his wife, in them too. My Grandpa gave them to Elizabeth first. After he died, she didn't feel comfortable keeping them, and told my dad to give them to me. My dad didn't tell me that. I found out myself. The box had to Elizabeth on it in my Grandpa's handwriting. My dad had reused the jewelry box and forgot to take the tag off. I didn't say any thing to him. It was really nice of Elizabeth to do that. At first, I didn't like her. After she gave those pearls to me, I knew she loved me because she knew I didn't know my grandpa really well.  
  
Any way, when Marie didn't give the pearls back, I called Elizabeth, crying. She was surprised I knew about Grandpa giving the pearls to her first, but she listened. She said that I didn't need pearls to remember my Grandpa, that I could always keep the memories. She said Marie couldn't take those.  
  
Elizabeth told me to get my mom on the phone. At first my mom was mad that I had called Elizabeth, but then when she had talked to her, she was okay with it. She talked to Craig, and they gave my pearls back. Get this though- Marie was only grounded for three days! I would have been grounded way longer than that.  
  
I like Chicago way more than St. Louis. Sure, I have friends here, but family is a lot better. A family that actually loves me. Not that my mom doesn't. She just goes along with Craig, who doesn't like me, now that he's met my dad. I don't know what Craig has against him. I don't really care either. I really couldn't care less about Craig or Marie. And my mom, well that's to confusing.  
  
I want to move back out to Chicago to live with my dad and Elizabeth. And my baby sister, Ella. Well, she's really my step-sister, but I like to think of her as a sister. I think I'd be a lot happier there than I am here. Actually, I know I would. I haven't asked my mom though. I don' know what she'd say. She'd be a little shocked I think.  
  
I'm going to spend Christmas in Chicago. I spent it there last year, and I'm supposed to be here this year, but I want to go. Plus, since I already asked my dad, he's going to bring me by the hospital. I miss Lydia. She was soooo nice. I remember her from when I was little and before I moved here.  
  
I wonder if the african-american doctor is still there. I think his name was Dr.Benson or something like that. I remember one time I saw a boy that was hurt really badly in the trauma room and Dr. What's-his-name was trying to help him. Later, when I asked him if the boy was okay, he told me that the boy had died. I asked Dr.Benson why he wasn't crying, and he said he was, in his heart. I hate to say it, because it sounds so corny, but he taught me an important lesson that day, about feelings. You can always be sad on the inside and not show it on the outside. I don't know, that's the moral that I got out of it any way.  
  
I don't know how the doctors do it. They work hard to save someone, and then the person dies. Then the doctor doesn't show an ounce of guilt or sadness. I know if I ever took up medicine, I would cry so hard every time someone died.  
  
I want to be a journalist when I grow up. My mom wants me to be lawyer. My dad doesn't care what I do, "as long as I'm happy," which is okay with me.  
  
I hope I get to move back to Chicago with my dad, Elizabeth, and Ella. I know I probably won't get to, because of my mom. She makes it her life goal to make sure that I'm as far away and out of contact with my dad. How come I can't be happy and get what I want? Just once? 


	7. From My View- Kate Ross

From My View- Kate Ross Note: she is 13 years old.  
  
What do you think of when you hear the word "love child"? A baby that was conceived before marriage? An irresponsible couple? When I hear those words, I think of me and my sister, Tess. We're love children. Tess doesn't really seem to care that much. I do. I don't know why though. Tess and I always thought that we had been conceived after Mom and Dad were married. Turns out that they had lied to us about their anniversary date until we were nine years old. I mean, I guess that's what I would have done. I mean, I would exactly want my two four year old daughters running around telling everyone that their mom got pregnant and had twins before she and our dad got married. That isn't exactly the best image of our family. Yes, if you're still wondering why I said "twins," it's because I am one. My sister, Tess, is my twin. She was born first, but only by about forty-five minutes. My mom said that her and my dad's best friend named me. My mom was trying to think of names for me, and she asked Mark. He said he didn't know, so my mom asked for his mom's name. It was Ruth. Thank God my mom didn't go with that. After that, he suggested Katherine. My mom liked that, so she chose that name. There's a really long story behind the whole love child business. My mom and my dad had been dating each other for a long time. They were trying to get pregnant. I can't believe they could be so stupid! That isn't moral. My mom says it's fine, but I don't think so. I'm gonna go with the Bible. Any way, my dad got in trouble at work (they didn't tell me how, except that he had broken hospital protocol again), and quit his job before he got fired. He just got on a plane for Seattle, and got a house here. A few weeks later, my mom found out she was pregnant. She called my dad up, and told him not to come back. I don't understand my parents at all. Here they are, trying to get pregnant before they are married. Then when they do, my dad has skipped out on my mom. So, there she is, single, and barely with enough money to support herself, and a job that requires she work long hours, and she tells my dad NOT to come take care of his children. So, my mom gets an ultrasound done, and finds out that she is pregnant with twins. She didn't call my dad to tell him. So a few months later, she has me and my sister, and my dad is wondering whether he had a daughter or a son, and doesn't even consider whether he has some daughters or sons. So, after a few months with the two of us, my mom flips one day and moves out to Seattle, where she and my dad get married. That's the end of the twisted fairy tale. My sister thinks it's really romantic. I think that it is stupid, and that both of my parents were insane. I mean, I'm grateful that I'm alive, and that my mom had me and my sister, but I don't like knowing that my parents were so irresponsible, and that I was born without married parents. All of the other kids in my grade were born after their parents were married. I think so any way. I guess I couldn't possibly know. No one's ever said any thing about that, but then again, I haven't exactly gone around telling everyone. Another strange fact about my birth. My sister and I were born without middle names. It was only when my mom and us moved out here, that my dad decided to give us middle names. My mom gave me mine, Elizabeth, and my dad gave Tess hers, Markie. My dad says that Markie is the feminine form of Mark. I think he just made that up. My middle name is after one of my mom's close friends from Chicago. Elizabeth was the first person my mom told that she was pregnant. Elizabeth was there for the ultrasound and gave her the news that she had twins. Elizabeth would have gone to see us born, but she couldn't . My dad is a pediatrician. My mom used to be a nurse. Now she stays home with us. Sometimes she helps my dad at his office, but she doesn't work at a hospital like she used to. My dad has a private practice. He gave up on hospitals as soon as he got in trouble for the umpteenth time for breaking the rules in Chicago. He likes it better now. He can pretty much do whatever he wants. If he does break the rules of the American Medical Association, he doesn't get caught. My mom and dad both say the things they miss most about working at a hospital is the closeness of the people who work there and the traumas. My mom said that at the hospital, everyone knew everyone and if someone was in trouble, everyone would help them. My dad barely knows the name of his secretary. I asked my mom why she misses doing traumas so much. She said it was because you could bring someone's life back in a split second. At my dad's private practice, they don't get any thing close to traumas. The worst they get are the chicken pox. My mom says she misses her friends at the hospital in Chicago. So does my dad. We asked them why they don't go back to visit and they just say they can't . They don't give any reasons. Well, that's my life. Kate Elizabeth Ross; the love child who's parents just didn't bother to think things through. 


	8. From My View- Tess Ross

From My View- Tess Ross  
  
  
  
Romance is the greatest thing in the world. If you have romance in your life, you are happy. That's what my dad says. I totally agree. After all, it's so obvious that he and my mom were meant for each other, even if it took a while for them to realize it.  
  
My parents had a rough "end of the beginning," as they both say. They mean the end of their life away from each other and the beginning of their life together.  
  
My dad had to leave Chicago, where my parents lived. My mom stayed for some crazy reason. After a few weeks of my dad being gone, my mom found out that she was pregnant. She called my dad and told him not to come. I think that she was being dumb. She could have raised a baby alone, but it's clear that they are soul mates.  
  
Any way, my mom says, that for the first time in her life, my dad respected her wishes and didn't come. That made her upset at first, but she was to proud to call him and tell him to come.  
  
My mom got an ultrasound and found out she was going to have twins- me and my sister, Kate.  
  
My mom had us, and tried to raise us alone. Then on her birthday, my dad sent her some animal crackers. It was a tradition they had, they would give each other a box of animal crackers on every occasion.  
  
My mom broke down, and flew out to Seattle. When she got to my dad's house, she flew into his arms and they kissed.  
  
Isn't it romantic? I think it is soooo sweet. It's a classic love story. My sister, Kate thinks that it's immoral to have sex before marriage. She's totally ashamed to be a love child.  
  
Personally, I don't really care. I think it's great. We grew up normally, except we are older than our parents' wedding anniversary. We aren't any different. I think it's wonderful to be a love child. After all, we DID bring our parents together.  
  
Kate is soooo conservative. She thinks that my mom was stupid for telling my dad not to go to Chicago. She says that they didn't have to get back together or any thing. My mom would just have better "financial support."  
  
PLEASE! It was destiny. My parents would eventually end up back together, and live happily ever after.  
  
I don't know what my sister has against love. She isn't into boys, and doesn't go to any of the parties she's invited to, because she says that she never wants to fall in love.  
  
My parents have talked to her, and said that there is nothing wrong with falling in love. The said just make sure that she is responsible.  
  
Kate just doesn't listen. She doesn't want to get hurt. Any time I invite a boy over to our house, she goes and sees a movie or something, so she doesn't have to be around him. She's such a baby.  
  
Kate and I are so different. My role model is Britney Spears. I mean, she is SO down to earth, unlike some other celebrities, who just bask in the spotlight. Kate looks up to her teacher, Ms. Clarance, who Kate says was a good teacher and had morals. Come on, if Kate had to pick a teacher, why Ms.Clarance? That lady is evil! She gave the most detentions and homework. No one liked her- except for Kate. It figures.  
  
Kate doesn't care about any thing or any one except for two things: her dog, Rose and horses. Okay, so Rose is really the family dog, but Kate is incredibly close to her. Rose even sleeps in Kate's room- by choice! Kate comes home from school and Rose is sitting there, by the front door, waiting. Then she and Rose go upstairs to their room, and Kate does her homework.  
  
Kate loves horses a lot. She knows everything about them. I know she would love to own a horse, but knows better than to ask. At the very least, she wishes she could take riding lessons. She never told anyone, but it IS kind of obvious.  
  
I, on the other hand, care about lots of things. I love my family (which Kate couldn't care LESS about), my friends, boys (If you ever see Kate with one, call the press), and school.  
  
h that's another thing, Kate cares way to much about school. At the end of third grade, she went straight to fifth (yes, she is a grade ahead of me). It's so annoying. I mean, I work hard at grades; I'm an A-B student, and I've always gotten a GPA of 3.43 to 3.86.  
  
Kate has never gotten less than a 3.98. That was the first quarter after she skipped fourth grade. Other than that she's always gotten a 4.0. She has no social life what so ever.  
  
Okay, I need to stop picking my sister apart. She IS my sister, even though I hate her at times. I said I love my family, unlike Kate, so I'm not going to sink to her level.  
  
Kate has a way with words. She can make an insult pretty much feel like someone shot you in the heart. She actually has made my dad cry when she said something to him. My dad hasn't cried since his mother died, which was more than twenty years ago. He didn't even cry when my mom told him not to go to Chicago. Then, Kate, his own daughter says, "I was am an irresponsible mistake of yours," to him, and then he cries, right in front of her. She never did apologize for that. No one in our house talked to each other for the next two days, because my parents thought that I felt that way to. I feel just the opposite of that. When they found out, they felt a whole lot better.  
  
They never were AS happy after Kate said that. My dad doesn't ever laugh in front of her any more, and Kate is the only one my mom hasn't told that she's pregnant again. My parents have been trying to figure out how to tell her for the past month. They told me as soon as they found out, which was over two months ago. I guess I didn't keep my promise of not picking my sister apart. It's hard not to, though.  
  
I can't wait for my mom to have the baby. It'll be so fun to help out and stuff. I love babies. They are soooo cute, all the time, even when they are crying. I can't wait! I don't know how to express how excited I am.  
  
Well, that's MY view on my family. I can only imagine how conflicting Kate's view is. 


	9. From My View- Tatiana Ross

Tatiana Ross  
  
Age Eleven  
  
What if the Carol's adoption had gone through?  
  
(Note- I may have gotten her age wrong for season eight)  
  
I am Russian. You can still hear it in my voice. I can't get rid of the accent. My mother is part Russian, but she isn't my real mother.  
  
She is my third adoptive mother. I had two before her: one in Russia from the time I was two, who gave me up when I was five, because she couldn't afford me any more. Then I spent a year and a half in a children's home, which I think is called an orphanage here in the United States. The second one was American, and only kept me for a few months. Then she gave me up because I had AIDS. Then my mother adopted me.  
  
I shouldn't be living now. I should have been dead two years ago; from the AIDS. I have advanced AIDS, which makes me really sick all the time. The part of my body that keeps me from being sick is very weak. My mother taught me about AIDS. AIDS means Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome.  
  
I don't like having AIDS. I can't pick up my baby sisters if I have a cut, even if it isn't bleeding.  
  
My father isn't legally my father. My mother adopted me when we lived in Chicago. We lived on our own for a while, and after a few years, we moved in with my father. Then he got in trouble at his work, and he had to go to Seattle. My mother had my sisters, Kate and Tess in Chicago, and then all four of us moved to Seattle with my father. That is where we are now.  
  
My parents got me a tutor, so we can go on vacation whenever we want, which is quite a lot. My parents didn't tell me this, but it is because I am going to die. They want me to enjoy my life before I die.  
  
We went to Disneyland, New Mexico, a trip on a boat, and to a Texas ranch last year. I liked the ranch the best. We went on horses every day. That was very fun.  
  
I. I don't want to die. I love my new life. When I was in Russia, I wouldn't have cared if I died; but I didn't want to die. Now, I never want to die. It isn't fair that I have to die before everyone else. People are supposed to live to be old, and see their grandparents and parents die before them. Instead, I am going to die young, and everyone will see me die, even my Grandmother Helen. It isn't fair. I don't' know how many times I can say that. I finally enjoy my life, but now I have to know that I could die any day now.  
  
This is too much of a sad subject. I would like to talk about something else.  
  
I like Seattle, but I liked Chicago much better. The people at the place where my parents used to work were very nice. I liked Dave. He was very, very funny. He taught me some words in Spanish. I can say dog, cat, rabbit, and mother in Spanish. Perro, gato, conejo, and madre. Conejo is pronounced coneho. Sometimes he would talk very fast in Spanish and it was very confusing. I liked Dave though.  
  
I just can't ignore this. It keeps returning to my head. I am getting weak. I can't take dance class anymore, because I get tired so easily. My mother has shortened my tutoring time to only three hours a day because I get so tired from thinking so hard. I. I think that this will be my last year with my parents. 


	10. From My View- Michael ? (Jing- Mei's Bab...

Michael ? (Deb/Jing-Mei's) Baby  
  
Age 12  
  
It's mother's day. I'm sitting here writing a mother's day card to my mom, I mean my biological one.  
  
I'm adopted. My mom (when I say mom, I mean my adopted mother) has me write a mother's day card to my biological mother every year.  
  
I asked my parents why my biological mom gave me up, once. They didn't know. So my parents called her, and she wrote me a letter explaining it when I was nine. Here's the letter:  
  
Dear Michael,  
  
I love the pictures I get of you. You are quite grown up.  
  
I love you with all my heart. Your parents told me that you are wondering why I put you up for adoption.  
  
I was irresponsible with my love life. I had a one night stand with a man, and ended up pregnant with you. I'm not sorry I had you, but if I had you when I was in a committed relationship, I would have been happier.  
  
It was very hard for me to give you up, but I know I did the right thing. Now you are in a loving home with parents that can support and take care of you, and commit the time to a child.  
  
I'm a doctor, so I couldn't give you any of that. I work ridiculous hours, and don't make enough money to support a child. I know I could love you though, but that isn't enough.  
  
Your ethnicity matches your family's. I am Asian (Chinese) and your biological father is African American.  
  
In case you are wondering about siblings, you will soon have a half-sister named Lucille Adriana Carter.  
  
So you understand why I am able to keep Lucy, I need to tell you that I am now married to another doctor, so with our income and usually alternate hours, we are able to have a baby now.  
  
I'll send you a picture of Lucy when she is born, which should be in another three weeks.  
  
Don't come looking for me. Your family is in Portland. Think of me as a distant aunt or something.  
  
I'll always love you Michael.  
  
Love,  
  
Jing-Mei Chen  
  
I cried when I read that letter. She's right though. My family is here.  
  
I would like to see my sister though. I've always wanted a little brother, but a sister will do. I just want to, I don't know, hold her for a few minutes.  
  
I'm not sure I want to see my mother though. I mean, I respect and love her for her decision. She could have easily kept me, and I could have grown up miserably. I just think that it would be so awkward.  
  
My father though, I never want to see. Even though my biological mother didn't tell me, she told my parents.  
  
When I was eight, I asked my parents why I never wrote a father's day card to him, and they told me what happened. He didn't want me. He wasn't willing to support me if my biological mom kept me.  
  
I don't care. My parents can't have children, so adopting is the only thing they can do. My biological mom told me in a postcard once to look at adoption as a blessing. People that can have children give those who can a gift. That's how I like to look at adoption.  
  
Sometimes I wonder if I look like my biological parents. My mom says that she'll show me a picture of my biological mother one day. I won't nag her to. I know it must be hard for her to answer those questions about my "real" mother.  
  
My dad on the other hand, is very open about it. He tries to make sure that all of my questions are answered. There are just some things that he can't get answers to though.  
  
I love my parents. I love my biological mother too. I'm a little scared to see her now, but maybe someday. 


	11. From My View- Reece Benton

From My View- Reece Benton  
  
9 years old  
  
  
  
Most people think that being deaf is hard. I don' t. It's pretty easy. I mean, it can be frustrating at times, but I do fine. I can read, but I can't talk very well, although my dad says that I say my name really good. I don't know.  
  
My mom wants me to learn to lip read. I went to one lesson, and decided against it. It's practically impossible. All the words look the same. I think I'll stick to signing. Maybe I'll try learning to talk, but for right now, I'll stick to what I'm doing.  
  
I've been deaf since I was born. My dad found out when the people in the day care center at the hospital where he works noticed that I seemed "unresponsive." They thought that he should get my hearing checked. My dad didn't think that I needed it, but he got it checked any way. Sure enough, I was deaf. My parent decided to get me into signing lessons and get me a hearing aid, which helps just a little. Now I can hear really loud noises.  
  
My dad said that for the first few months that I had the hearing aid, he and my mom had to keep a constant watch on me because I kept taking it off. Once, when I was little, I threw it into the toilet, and my dad had to call the city sewage place to get it back.  
  
I feel kinda bad because my mom hates my dad's girlfriend, Cleo because of me. One day, my mom was hurt and in the hospital for a while, and Cleo took me home. When she turned around for a minute, I managed to get my fingers slammed in her piano. My mom hates her for that, even though all I had was a little scratch on my hand. My dad says my mom hates Cleo because of something else. He won't tell me though, which means it's probably me.  
  
I love both my parents, but my mom is so afraid that I'm going to accidentally kill myself because I'm deaf. Thank God I can almost take a bath alone. She doesn't come In there with me, but she has a monitor in there, so she can hear if I do any thing. I'm deaf, not legless. My dad does watch out for me, but I can pretty much do whatever when I'm in the house. If I go outside, though, someone has to be with me. My dad doesn't really care what I do inside though.  
  
Cleo doesn't either. She says she does tend to keep a closer eye on me than she did before, but to me, she doesn't really mind if I go off by myself in her house, which is usually where I end up staying when I'm with my dad.  
  
Okay, I guess I need to explain why my dad has a girlfriend, and isn't married to my mom. My dad and my mom were never married. They were close though. Then they had a fight and broke up, sometime before I was born.  
  
Both my parents eventually started dating again, and my mom actually eloped with some guy named Rodger who left her and "ran off with a slut to Germany," That's what my mom says. She's still legally married to him. She never bothered to get a divorce. Kind of messed up, I know.  
  
Once when Cleo and dad were going on a "grownup vacation" and Jackie and her family were gone, I stayed with one of my dad's friends. She was a really nice lady called Elizabeth. She said that she and my dad were pretty good friends. She always looked a little nervous when she said that. I think it's because she's also my dad's boss.  
  
My mom wasn't very happy when she found out that I had stayed overnight at Elizabeth's house. She said something about dating out of her race. I don't know what that means. Yes, I did hear her say that. I can hear really, really, loud noises. My mom was yelling at my dad when she said that. I'm not completely deaf. Just partially.  
  
So, that's what it's like to be a deaf kid that has two parents that never were married. One day, maybe I'll get at least one set of married parents. instead of none. 


	12. Fom My View- Susie Lewis

From My View- Susie Lewis  
  
Age Nine  
  
All of my friends have a mom and a dad- well except for Ashley. She only has a dad. Her mom died when she was four. At least she has ONE. Both my parents may as well be dead.  
  
I never met my dad. My mom was never married to him. I asked my Aunt Susan about him, kind of what he was like. She said that he was a bank teller, and that he and my mom had gone out for a long time- almost two years. I can tell that Aunt Susan was lying. She's not very good at it. My father was probably an unemployed twenty-year-old that my mom had been seeing only for two days before they got in bed together.  
  
My mom, I remember. She's still living- I think. She ran off to Houston with one of her boyfriends a few years ago. I'm used to it now, though.  
  
Aunt Susan has always been my mother really. She knows me better than the one I was born too. I've spent most of my life with Susan. I mean, this wasn't the first time my mom ran off and left me with Susan.  
  
First she went with a friend to go see what money they could make at the flea market when I wasn't even four months old. She came before I was one and moved us from Chicago to Phoenix. Susan left her job as a doctor in Chicago and followed us out here because she missed me so much.  
  
When I was two and a half, my mom went to Miami, Florida for two years. She came back for a year, but then was off again, but this time to Los Angeles. She came back when I was almost six, but then left again when I was seven. She went to New York. Then she came back after a few months, and then she was off to Houston I haven't seen her since. It's been four years.  
  
Susan is adopting me this time. She tried to every time except the second, but my mom always came back "just in time" saying she wouldn't do it again. My aunt has a big heart and is very gullible, so she would always drop the adoption case.  
  
This time though, she swears she's going to go through with it. I'll be her daughter in two weeks.  
  
It's weird, me "officially" being her daughter. To me, I always have. I mean, I guess my mom loved me, but not as a mother. She loved me as something like a pet. She had to make the commitment, but didn't want to, so she just figured she could get rid of me, and dump me on Susan. Susan, though, she never got fed up with me. She's the one paying my way through school. She's the one that is sheltering me. She's the one I've spent my life with.  
  
After the adoption is finalized, Susan and I are going back to Chicago. She misses it there, and she thinks that we both need a new start.  
  
She was going to leave an address with the neighbors, just in case my mom comes back and wants to know where we are. I begged Susan not to though. I'm so sick of my mom leaving, and turning our lives upside down. Then, just when Susan and I settle down again, mom comes back and messes up our lives again, and then just does it again.  
  
If I am going to get a new start, I need a somewhat normal life. I can't take my mom coming back one more time. I just need to find my balance. Every time I almost find it, my mom comes back and it throws me off again. I'm the kind of person who needs to be "at peace with my self". I can't do that with my mom entering and leaving, and then reentering again.  
  
Yeah, I miss my mom. Sometimes I wish she would come back- on the condition that she would stay put, but I know that will never happen. For now, I'm Susan's niece, then her daughter. 


End file.
